


Too Late

by HerMajestyQueenQueer



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, M/M, lgbtqia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-16 08:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11824851
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HerMajestyQueenQueer/pseuds/HerMajestyQueenQueer
Summary: Taking place after Mary Watson sacrificed herself for Sherlock. It has been many months since John Watson and Sherlock have had any contact. In an effort to move on Sherlock has found solace in another, but for some reason John wont let him move on.





	1. Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly I'm still kinda pissed at John for being such an insufferable ass to Sherlock. But to each their own am I right?

Sherlock stood naked. His lungs expanded, and with a hefty sigh he breathed out a forlorn emptiness. 

“Sherlock, love?” A soft voice spoke with both concern and sleepiness, “Come to bed.”

Sherlock turned around slowly and smiled through the darkness. His smile towards his partner only grew larger as he watched their sleepy gaze looking him up and down. With both a loving concern and peaked desire. It was probably the nudity. With a smile Sherlock lowered himself onto their bed and snuggled up closely to his lover. 

“Greg?” Sherlock whispered. 

“Yes?” Greg began to run his fingers through Sherlock’s hair. It calmed Sherlock’s tense spirits.

“Do you think . . . John will ever . . . forgive me?”

Greg stopped moving his fingers at the sound of John’s name. Sherlock knew that talking about John might of been a little insensitive to their situation, but he wanted an opinion. Even if it seemed strange, or even offensive. He just really need to know. Gregs response was important to him.

“If you had jumped in front of that bullet to save Mary, John would have never forgiven her”

So far exactly what Sherlock wanted to hear.

“But I think John is completely distraught because he never thought the opposite wouldn’t be just as true.”

Sherlock turned to Greg. His heart racing. 

“What . . .”

Shock, frustration, hurt, all flashed through Sherlock’s mind. Easily readable on his face. Greg lifted his hand to stroke Sherlock’s cheek. 

“I know . . . I wasn’t your first choice. I know you’d have preferred him . . and I won’t hold that against you, but I-”

Sherlock grabbed onto Greg's hand and kissed it. A gesture that kept Greg from continuing. Tears began to form at the edges of Sherlock’s face as he continued to plant kisses on Greg's palm. Oh Greg. Sherlock thought to himself. Knowing that his question would hurt Greg, but he did not anticipate the complete acceptance that Grag seemed to have. The acceptance of the idea that he would never be his number one, always . . . number two. Sherlock's heart constricted when he thought of the idea of numbering people in relation to how important they are to him. It hurt because he had not even thought to number people.  
Cradling Greg's hand to his cheek now, the two men lay in their bed. The silence of Sherlock’s affection seemed unable to console Greg. The older man’s assumptions proved this, and as Sherlock lay there trying to figure out how to formulate sentences Greg spoke again to break the silence.

“Do you love me?” 

Sherlock froze. It was a question he felt unqualified to answer. How could he say yes, knowing in his heart that he still held affections for John. Yet how could he say no, with the amount of emotional attachment he knew he held for Greg. Sherlock made a decision. Honesty seemed best, it was the lack of honesty with John that he lost him in the first place. 

“I feel . . . unqualified to answer that question.”

“Oh.” Greg responded almost instantly. He removed his hand from Sherlock’s face. Moving to hug Sherlock to his chest. “I knew you would say something like that.” Greg chuckled softly.

The vibrations of Greg’s voice riddled though Sherlock’s body. sending shivers down his spine. Yes, that was the difference between Greg and John. Sherlock barely realizing this. Johns voice would send butterflies to his stomach. Quick, exciting, and full of spontaneity. Greg's voice was closer to the experience of listening to the harmony of an orchestra. No butterflies but undoubtedly enchanting. 

“Yes.” Sherlock, whispered into Greg’s ear. His heart began to race. He wasn’t going to lie. No, he might as well tell the truth. “I love you, I do.”

“But you’ll always love him more?” Greg replied quickly again. It sent another round of shivers down Sherlock’s body, but this time in a different way.

Sherlock twisted around and sat on the edge of his bed. He needed a moment of silence. And it was in this silence that the familiar buzz of his phone ripped him from his darkness. The man desperately needing a distraction from the ache in his chest. Greg's words still fresh like the burn from a hot iron. 

The text read: I miss you. 

Three words. It made his blood boil. Sherlock became overwhelmed in this moment. The tears that had been forming on the edge of his eyes began to overflow. 

“Sherlock?!” Greg spoke with a tone of worry. The shaking of Sherlock’s shoulders must have given him away. 

“Im sorry, I just. . .” Greg put his hand on Sherlock’s back. His hand a small comfort. “I think I jumped into this too fast. I-”

“Not another word love.” wrapping his arms around Sherlock’s waist Greg planted several kisses upon his back, “I’m here, i’ll always be here, i’ll never leave you alone.” 

“I know.” It was a silent whisper. Easily missed. Sherlock, unsure if Greg had heard him decided not to repeat himself. He was simply in too much pain.

I promise I wont repeat the same mistakes with you, that I made with John . . . Greg.


	2. Prt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The words, "Lets talk," and "I miss you," Plague Sherlock.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this gonna be a daily thing? Should I try to write daily? lol lemme know.

Sherlock moaned softly as Greg planted delicate kisses upon his neck. The tingling sensation of the morning shower only heightening the sultry nature of their exchange. Greg continued his kisses about three or four more times before he stepped away and giggled. Sherlock's heart began to race as the parts of his skin felt aflame from touch.

 

“What’re you think right now?” Greg spoke through his smile. The words falling softly on Sherlock's ears. 

 

“I’m thinking about how high my water bill is going to be this month.” With a smirk Sherlock planted a kiss on Greg's lips before the other man could reply with a snarky comment of his own. 

 

“Oi!” Greg gave a quick laugh at Sherlock's joke. His face brightening at the remark. 

 

“Finished?” The grin on Sherlock's face only widened with every word. 

 

“Fine, i’m finished.” Greg pouted. Sherlock found it adorable, but time was an invaluable thing, if they didn't leave the shower now, the morning would be wasted. 

 

Greg began dressing himself quickly. Having been in the shower slightly longer than necessary, Sherlock noted, would make the poor man late to work this morning. Sherlock felt he shouldn’t of kept him that long, in hopes to make up the extra time he took away Sherlock began packaging last nights dinner. The morning was perfect and Sherlock honestly delighted in the domestic feeling Greg brought to his life. A frown passed Sherlock's face as he remembered how much of a mess he was before Greg. Yes his life was interesting and full of intrigue but it was a mess non the less. 

 

Arms wrapped themselves around Sherlock's waist. Giving a small yelp, Greg laughed at Sherlock's surprise. 

 

“That for me?” Pointing at the lunch that had been prepared, Sherlock smirked and shoved the full cutlery in a brown bag. 

 

“Maybe.” Sherlock replied playfully. The sensation of Greg's coat sliding against his nude form only brought color to his face. 

 

“What’re you thinking right now?” It was Greg's favorite question. It annoyed him at first, but eventually it became Sherlock's favorite as well. 

 

“Oh not much,” Turning around Sherlock waited for Greg to grab his lunch, but Greg's arms refused to remove themselves from Sherlock's waist, “Just how i've turned into your house wife.”

“The great Sherlock Holmes?! A house wife?!” with a quick kiss Greg finally removed his arms. Snatching his lunch from Sherlock's hand. “I’ve domesticated a Lion.” 

 

With a wink Greg turned around and began walking towards the stair well. The funny remark left Sherlock breathless. The sheer simplicity of it was hilarious but, Sherlock couldn't get over being compared to a Lion. It fit. 

 

“Oh, and love?” Greg had turned around after a few steps down the stair case, “I’m glad you feel better.”

 

Sherlock's stomach drops. In that moment the words  _ I miss you,  _ come to mind. He had forgotten them. But in this moment he didn't want Greg to worry before he went to work. The detective didn't need to be distracted by Sherlock more than he already was. 

 

“I feel better. . .” Sherlock lied. Greg smiled warrily. With a nod he returned to his original task of transporting himself to work. 

 

Sherlock's eyes refused to leave the stairwell. Waiting for the slam of Greg's car door before he lifted himself off the kitchen counter and began his morning routine. Greg rather enjoys cleanliness. When they first started their relationship that was all Greg would do. Clean. It embarrassed Sherlock and eventually Sherlock started cleaning his flat on his own accord. Mrs.Hudson called it blasphemy. Sherlock called it progress. The memory remained in Sherlock's mind until a familiar buzzing sound interrupted his daydreaming.  _ The text.  _ He had completely forgotten. She stood just a feet feet from the cleaning supplies he was about to grab when he turned instead and walked towards his bedroom. His stomach felt weak. _Buzz._ He didn't want to deal with this. _Buzz._  He didn't want to even think about it. _Buzz._  Sherlock's phone buzzed again.  _ Is it a phone call?  _ Sherlock thought to himself.  _ Probably just a client. _ With that hope He grabbed his phone from where it lay charging on his bed.  _ One missed call . . . from . . . _

 

**One missed call from John Watson.**

 

Sherlock's stomach shrank to an inconceivable size.  _ Why is he calling me?! He never calls me! He-  _  His thoughts were cut off by another vibration. This time a message flashed across his screen. 

 

**Lets talk.**


	3. Text messages and cleaning in the nude.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Text messages y'all. Text messages. oh and cleaning while completely nude. What an image ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late post. Had a bunch of things to do today. :')

Sherlock stared at his phone. Glad he had not enabled to read receipts. A heavy sigh escaped him for the hundredth time. Annoyed at himself and at absolutely everything, he decided that today would be the ultimate cleaning day. Putting his phone to silent Sherlock left it in his bedroom and walked towards the kitchen. He would clean the house from top to bottom. It would be sparkling. And Greg would walk in and he would gasp in surprise.  _ Maybe throw me over his shoulder and carry me to bed. . . our bed. With lots of . . .kissing and lots of- _

 

“SHERLOCK!” Sherlock lifted his head from his autopilot cleaning in a shock. 

 

“SHERLOCK, JOHN IS CALLING DO YOU WANT TO SPEAK TO HIM?!” 

 

Sherlock stood there silent. He had no answer for that. Also he still didn’t have any clothes on and didn’t want Mrs.Hudson to walk in on him cleaning his flat while nude. He shivered at the thought of the gossip. Quickly Sherlock walked over to the etrances of his flat and slammed both doors. The one from the kitchen first, and then the one that opened to the den. Both slammed, Hard. Then locked.

 

“Drama queen.” Sherlock could hear Mrs.Hudson muttering from down stairs, “John, I think it best you-”

 

With annoyance Sherlock walked straight to his bedroom where he couldn't hear Mrs.Hudson speak to  _ him _ . He didnt want to hear it, he didn't even want to think about it. The rest of the day would be dedicated to cleaning and then possible planning on how to seduce Greg when he came in that evening. Well if he came in that evening. The poor man rarely got any rest on the job. It was a shock to Sherlock at first, but then again, he never quite paid attention before their relationship. The memory made Sherlock Cringe.  

As all these thoughts slowly swam out of Sherlock’s head as he found himself in a severely over cleaned flat, and overly organized. Trying to keep his mind occupied with thoughts of him and Greg he was completely preoccupied with the contents and organization of his dressor.  

_ Organized sock drawer. Check. _

_ Organized underwear. . .Check. _

_ Shirts organized from lights to darks. Check. _

_ Pants? Hmm maybe I should make them Dark to light?  _

“Sherlock?” ripped out of his thoughts Sherlock turned to the entrance of his bedroom. The familiar voice giving him goosebumps, “Why are you naked?” 

Greg stood in the doorway, his arms crossed, his right eyebrow raised in that semi serious semi playful manner, and a cocky smile that sent a wave of pleasure to Sherlock’s lower body. 

 

“I can see that your electric bill is going to be through the roo this month as well,”  _ what?  _ “With all the lights on in the flat no wonder you didn’t notice it’s already late.”  

 

_ Late? _ Sherlock turned towards his alarm clock that he plugged in that morning. Sure enough, in bright red it read 8pm. 

Sherlocks face brightened in embaressment. He thought it silly that he had literally cleaned the whole day without even noticing. With that realization Sherlock just barely realizing the exhaustion he felt due to it. He smelled of chemicals and dust.  _ Good thing I never wore any clothes.  _

With a chuckle Sherlock got to his feet and began stretching. 

 

“You’re off work early then?” Sherlock replied in hopes to change the conversation. Of course it worked with Greg he was always one for small talk.

 

“Yepp! London decided to be nice to me and let me go home early.”

Sherlock walked over to the bathroom door, picking a clean towel from their rack and began readying himself for a shower. 

 

“So no murders then?” He commented.

 

“Boring isn’t it!”

 

“Ugh, you’ve become the breadwinner, dont remind me of boredom.” 

 

“So you haven’t had any new clients?”

 

“Of course not!” Slightly annoyed that Greg missed the obvious he jumped into the shower with no invite. “Why do you think the house is so clean today.” Sherlock pouted.

 

“I don’t know, thought you were trying to seduce me.” 

 

Sherlock peaked out of the shower curtain with his right eyebrow raised semi serious, semi playfully. 

 

“You read me like a book.” With a wink Sherlock motioned for Greg to get into the shower. “Whenever you’re ready.”

 

With a wide grin Sherlock continued on with his shower.  _ He’ll probably get undressed in the bedroom first.  _

 

“Oi love?” Sherlock arched his eyebrow again. 

 

“Yes Greg?”

 

“You have Text’s from him.”

 

Sherlocks stomach dropped.

 

“Want me to read them?” Sherlock stood frozen, unsure if he should say yes or no. Regardless the mood was already killed.  _ Damnit Greg. _

 

“Oh no. . .”

 

“Damn it Greg what is it?!”

 

Greg walked into the restroom with his pants still on to Sherlock’s disappointment.

“Read!” Greg yelped out with an unwarrented enthusiasm. 

 

_ Geez. What did John say.  _ Grabbing at his phone trying to keep it from getting wet Sherlock read aloud the texts remaining text he had not read.   

 


	4. Prt 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When did John have the power to cause a nervous break down?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm. This one is a little later than I had hoped. Sorry about that! But I hope y'all like the story!

[The text messages in all their glory.](https://spainardcrimsonmermaid.tumblr.com/post/164413019572/a-text-message-where-sherlock-moved-on-from-johns)

 

Sherlock couldn't rip his eyes away from the messages. The last one in particular catching his eye. _I’m coming over tonight._ Unaware that he spoke aloud Greg’s face fell into an unbecoming frown. Sherlock wasn't happy about this either but Greg’s reaction seemed unsettling. Sherlock only wish he knew how to read minds.

 

“What are you thinking about?” Sherlock spoke timidly. Surprisingly intimidated by Greg’s expression.

 

“Oh,” upon hearing Sherlock speak his features softened, “Oh nothing.”

 

_Don't lie._

 

Greg put Sherlock's phone down and smiled. He masked his emotions quite efficiently. Sherlock always thought he was an open book, but sometimes Greg’s heart would be veiled. Sherlock deduced by his slumping posture, the fact that his feet faced away and his fake smiling that he was no longer in the mood for a shower. Sherlock pulled the shower curtain closed and continued washing off.

 

“Do you think he’ll come?”

 

Sherlock didn’t know what to say. He didn’t want to say anything. But eventually his sinking stomach  forced him to reply.

 

“I hope not.”  

 

“I’m gonna go lay down.”

 

Sherlock watched Greg’s shadow walk towards their bedroom door. Sherlock’s heart racing. He wanted to do something. Anything. _After i’m clean? I-_

 

“Greg?”

 

Spinning on his heel like he was expecting something, Greg waited for Sherlock to speak. Sherlock never got this far with John obviously. There was only one time he called out to John in this way. On the Tarmac. He had an audience that time, and so afraid of revealing his true colors he made a shitty joke instead of a heartfelt good bye. Instead of what he wanted. Sherlock supposed it was a good thing it didn't happen then. Mostly because if it did, where would he be now? Would he be even more broken? Would John have hurt him even earlier? All questions he didn't have answers too, but he did have an answer to the question that stood before him. _Greg._

 

“Can I have a kiss?” Sherlock spoke softly. His face burning with embarrassment. _I sound like a child!_

The rustling of the bathroom curtain brought Sherlock’s attention back to his surroundings. Greg had decided to enter the shower after all. Sherlock hadn’t noticed when Greg removed his pants but the sudden sight of Greg’s naked body brought an excitement to him that was earlier squashed by John’s text messages.

 

Greg wrapped his arms around Sherlock and brought his lips close.

 

“Of course you can.” Greg replied passionately. His kiss full of tender loving.

 

Greg’s kisses were like nothing Sherlock ever experienced. Yes they were tender, yes they were sometimes delicate, but mostly they were loving. Full of emotion that would send Sherlock’s heart into a frenzy every single time. No matter how many kisses they already had. Sherlock wasn't used to being showered with love like this. Ten months in a relationship and while he still had his demons, it was Greg’s kisses, Greg’s love, that made him feel more alive than the dangerous Adrenalin rushes he got when he adventured with . . .John.

It finally dawned on Sherlock. Having held onto the chains that kept him bonded to John. He didn't need them, he didn't want them. Tired of feeling helpless, tired of constantly being in pain, Sherlock decided to finally let go. _I don't love him._ Sherlock thought to himself. 

 

“I love you.” Sherlock spoke aloud, the moment he grasped for air from Greg’s passionate kiss.

 

Greg froze when Sherlock spoke those words. Sherlock stared into his eyes and gave a bashful smile. Knowing that Greg never heard those words unprompted. Sherlock decided that for once Greg didn’t have to ask if he loved him. Greg deserved better than that.  Then finally as shock seemed to pass Greg smiled massively. His eyes brightening so much Sherlock felt as if he might go blind.

 

“You dolt!” Greg laughed at Sherlock with a tint of red on his cheeks.

 

Giggling now, Sherlock emersed himself in Greg’s presence. Their happy laughter echoing throughout the flat.

 

The door to the stair well slammed. Sending enough force through out the house that Sherlock could feel the walls shaking in the water. The shower head not facing the wall instead of him and Greg. _Someone was in the house?!_

 

Greg dashed out of the shower, grabbing both towel and gun from their room.  Sherlock stood shakily. Him minds running through all sorts of scenarios, not understanding who had the audacity to break into their home. _Their home._    It wasn't until Sherlock heard the familiar voice of Mrs.Hudson that his world decided to stop spinning in that moment.

 

“Where are you going John!”

_John?!_

“Away from here!”

“But you said you wanted to talk to Sherlock!”

“Yes but!”

“He’s upstairs young man!” Sherlock heard a stomp, which he could only guess what Mrs.Hudson stomping her feet, “If you walk out that door without talking to him after nagging me for months about him so help me!”

“I cant! He was. . . in the middle. . of-”

“Of what?!”

The stairwell door creaked open.

“He was in the middle of a shower Ma’am.”

_GREG!_ Sherlock's heart raced as he heard Greg's voice. 

"Hey John," it sounded like Greg was smirking.

"Lestrade. . ." Johns voice was filled with realization as well as bitter disappointment and frustration. It reminded Sherlock of his own voice for the entirety of Johns marriage to Mary. It was unsettling. "I was just leaving."

"That's good mate, just don't slam the entrance door please." A small silence, _is he pointing at something?! "_ We have neighbors."

More silence. Then footsteps. Then the soft creaking that was familiar to only the front door. Then silence.

"Well then. . . That's that."

"I'm so sorry Greg I didn't know you were home yet! If I had known I would of warned him!"

"That's fine Ma'am, i'm not angry."

 

More silence this time. Sherlock's face was burning red. The sound of Johns voice sending him into a frenzy. Memories rushing to him in that moment, memories he missed, memories he didn't. His heart aching so viciously it was if all his wounds reopened at once. Sherlock promptly burst into tears. His ragged breath causing him to jump out of the shower where, hopefully, his breathing could settle without the water suffocating him.   Clutching the bathroom sink Sherlock slid to the restroom floor. One arm extended to keep him from collapsing while his other covered his mouth in an attempt to muffle his broken crying. 

 

He didn't notice when Greg found him in this state. He didn't notice anything. All he could remember were his memories. The hateful scorn of Johns eyes, the wedding vows, Mary showing off what she had and what Sherlock didn't. John seemingly not noticing. Everything was flooding over him at once. The floodgates now open all he could do was cry out.

 

_Why?! What did I do to deserve this?! All I did was love you. All I did was fall in love, all I did was cherish you, keep you safe, I tried, Oh I tried. Why? why?! Why._

 

Sherlock didn't notice he had been picked up from his place on the bathroom floor. He didn't notice when he was put to bed, and he didn't notice when the neighbors rushed over in concern from his screaming. Sherlock didn't even notice when he cried himself to sleep. His breathing still faltering as he slept. Greg stayed by Sherlock's side. holding him, comforting him. His eyes filled with a disgust for one man who hurt the one man he loved. Greg hated John, yes indeed. Greg hated John. 


End file.
